


Quick Feet and a Slow Lead

by duwangu



Series: Winter Claurenz Week 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Boys In Love, Dancing, M/M, i vastly underestimate how much i write, no beta we die like Glenn, the inherent eroticism of a ball, they might not know it yet but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22343581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duwangu/pseuds/duwangu
Summary: “Well, you know about the White Heron Cup?”A scoff, and a raised brow.“Well, of course. Doesn’t everyone? It is only one of the most exciting events of the year - a chance to show off our true mastery of elegance and grace. To dazzle the competition, and fill your dancing queue with endless suitors at the ball. The chance to prove-”“Byleth picked me to represent us.”--------Or: Claude realizes that the stuffy dances of Fódlan are just as hard as they look, and it will truly take a miracle and a good dance instructor to save him from totally messing up the White Heron Cup.For Claurenz week day 1: Dancing
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Series: Winter Claurenz Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608367
Comments: 12
Kudos: 101
Collections: Claurenz Week: Winter 2020





	1. Lead

**Author's Note:**

> me: oh yeah i can write a fic in a day what's the worst that can happen?  
> me after an eight hour work shift i forgot to consider: okay who said it had to be posted all at once
> 
> i'm a sucker for characters teaching each other to dance and i will absolutely never get enough of it no matter how many times it's written
> 
> i swear i'll update love potion fic really but lorenz perspective is harD

When Byleth had casually passed Claude by on their first day off of the new month, Claude hadn’t thought much of it. There was plenty enough to worry about as was, after the events of Remire Villlage; far too many implications to sort through, words to doubt, plans to figure out. 

The church’s uptight reaction to someone entering an abandoned chapel seemed overkill, but he couldn’t blame them. Everyone was shaken by what happened with Tomas, and the horrors they saw. It only made sense to be more on edge.

Which is why, logically speaking, the ball really wasn’t coming at a great time. He could get wanting to distract students and keep their mind off of things. Putting on a brave face to keep up moral was valid, but to do something so big that it distracted the knights and the monks as well? Claude really couldn’t call it a very strategic move, not cancelling the event.

Still, balls meant feasts, and Claude would never turn down one of those. It was at least _something_ to look forwards to for the month while he wrestled with all his other thoughts. This month would surely be better than the last. 

Or, so he thought, up until Byleth walked by him again. He had heard the rumours circulating about the White Heron Cup - a yearly tradition before the ball, where three poor souls had to represent their houses in front of the whole school, to be trained even further if they won. It was a good thing there were so many good options in their house for Byleth to pick. Hilda or Lorenz were the most obvious, with extensive backgrounds in noble dances _and_ a willingness to participate.

He says as much when they pause to chat with him, tone lax and a grin on his face. Up until they point silently at him, and everything freezes. He feels his smile twitch, eyes wide, and was there a new breeze blowing through the main hall? He felt a lot colder all of a sudden.

“You can’t be serious, Teach.”

The continued silent pointing makes him realize that they were, in fact, very serious. Deadly so. 

This month was not going to be any better.

-

Nine days. Claude had nine days to - somehow - pull off a miracle. Teach didn’t know, so he couldn’t totally blame them, but Claude barely even knew the first step of a traditional Fódlan dance. He had attended a few balls since he arrived in the Alliance, but Claude didn’t go out of his way to join in on the complicated dances. Some simple twirling around the ballroom? Yeah, sure. He could do that no problem. A proper dance, with all the elegant footwork, crowded in with couples that would run into you at the slightest misstep? No way. 

That was way above his head, and now he was going to be judged on it in front of a panel - not to mention the entire student body. All of the Golden Deer were relying on him, and he did _not_ want to let them down. Teach promised to help him practice on their next day off, but that wasn’t for a week, and would be all of two days before the actual cup. Claude really didn’t think that that single practice would do anything to get them even close to winning, and he’d be damned if he let the Golden Deer down.

He spent the rest of the day pacing and trying not to freak out, but it was pretty futile. The few mentions of dancing he found in a frantic search of the library were hardly instructional. Knowing when the first recorded ball held in Kingdom territory was really wasn’t going to help him win any extra points. 

Claude needed an instructor - someone who would want him to win and didn’t have to be impartial, which meant they had to be in his house. Someone who knew the dance like the back of their hand and could somehow teach it to him in a week, which eliminated Raphael, Ignatz, and Leonie. Someone who might be a good instructor, so off went Marianne and Lysithea. As much as he liked them, he did need to hear his instructions, and he didn’t fancy being yelled at the entire time. 

So, that left him with just Hilda and Lorenz, and as fun as learning to dance with Hilda sounded, he doubted she had the eye for technique he needed. Or, more accurately, he doubted she would care enough to fix it.

Which meant…

“Ah, to what do I owe this pleasure, Claude?” 

Claude grimaces, standing outside of Lorenz’s dorm room, just to the right of his own. It’s tempting to run, still. He could pretend he never knocked, and just let things happen. But then he remembers all the people who kept their eyes solely on the other two houses and ignored his own. He remembers everyone who thought they were far less ambitious and impressive compared to Edelgard and Dimitri, and he resolves himself to stop being a coward and show them all wrong. It wasn’t as influential as a win on the battlefield, but a competition was a competition.

“I need a favour.”

Whatever Lorenz had been expecting him to say, it clearly wasn’t that. He looks taken aback, for a moment, before his eyes narrow.

“A favour,” he repeats, and Claude can hear the suspicion laced in his words. “Of what kind?”

And here was the hard part. Swallowing his pride and admitting just how bad their house’s chances of winning the cup were, at this moment. 

He takes a breath, opens his mouth, pauses, then starts.

“Well, you know about the White Heron Cup?”

A scoff, and a raised brow.

“Well, of course. Doesn’t everyone? It is only one of the most exciting events of the year - a chance to show off our true mastery of elegance and grace. To dazzle the competition, and fill your dancing queue with endless suitors at the ball. The chance to prove-”

“Byleth picked me to represent us.”

Silence falls, Lorenz halting mid-word. Claude has to fight not to laugh at the absolutely _stricken_ look on his face, horror slowly creeping across it. He knows Lorenz watches him closely; had seen him stick to the edges of the dance room at balls. Had definitely watched as Claude threw all tradition out the window and brought his partners into a fast whirl across the floor, leaving them breathless and laughing and definitely increasing the disdain the stuffy older nobles held for him. He knows that Lorenz is reaching the very same conclusion as Claude himself did, and he only has to wait.

“What?!”

There it is.

“They picked- why?! Did they even audition you to see if you had any talent at all?”

“Nope.”

“Did you ask to be picked?!”

“No way. I even told them it was a bad idea, but they really didn’t seem to care.”

“Goddess help us,” Lorenz murmurs, pinching his brow. “What, pray tell, is this favour you need then? Perhaps a staging of your death, so they may pick again?”

“Tempting as that is, no. I was going to ask if you… well, can you teach me? How to dance. Honestly, I don’t even know where to start.”

“...That is much more challenging than faking your death,” Lorenz replies dryly, and Claude bites back a laugh. Since when did the guy know how to make jokes? “Still, as a member of the Golden Deer, it is my duty to make sure that you do not make a fool of yourself in front of the whole monastery. With my assistance, you can be rest assured, Claude, that our victory is certain.”

Just as he thought - hoped for, really - Lorenz wouldn’t turn away someone in need. Especially when it came to matters that let him show off his ‘pristine upbringing’. Doubly so when it could be lorded over Claude at a later date. It would be embarrassing, but he was absolutely Claude’s best chance at making up for the years worth of practice he’s sure the other representatives will have on him.

So, nodding, Claude grins at him. 

“Well, thank you very much, Lorenz. You just might save the Golden Deer yet.”

“I will,” Lorenz corrects with a sniff, his confidence starting to rub off on Claude the longer he stands there. “Meet me in my room tomorrow, after our classes are over. I will have everything prepared for our lessons then.”

“‘Course.” 

“Good night, Claude,” Lorenz says in dismissal, and finally closes the door. Claude realizes that yeah, they really did have that whole conversation in the hallway. No one else seemed to be around, though, so he doesn’t let it bother him as he turns to retreat to his own dorm for the night. He had a feeling tomorrow would be a long day for them both.

-

“You may enter.” 

Claude takes a breath, fighting back whatever nerves tried to rear their ugly heads. Neither he nor Lorenz mentioned the lesson for the whole day, but they knew neither forgot about it. It was all Claude could think about, honestly, and he was sure Lorenz would sooner trade out his whole tea collection for coffee than forget a promise he made.

He tries to remind himself that it’s just Lorenz. The guy was insufferable more often than not, but he wasn’t a bad man. He had a heart of gold, and Claude knew he wouldn’t make fun of him, no matter how bad his dancing was. 

That’s what he was hoping for, at the very least.

With more confidence than he currently feels, Claude pushes open Lorenz’s door, stepping inside. It occurs to him that he’s never actually been inside the man’s room, eyes scanning it. As he would have expected, it’s immaculate - a far cry from the book strewn mess of his own. He smiles a little at the delicately placed rose on the table by the door, a gift from the Professor that Lorenz obviously took care of, sitting in an ornate vase. It was just starting to wilt after a week, and Claude makes a note to let Byleth know Lorenz needed a new one soon.

Lorenz clearing his throat finally draws his attention to the man, and he stops short as he finishes closing the door behind him. Lorenz stands before him, school jacket carefully folded on the foot of his bed, leaving him in those ridiculously tight pants and the white button up of their school uniform, still done up to the collar and tucked in. This must be Lorenz’s idea of relaxed, Claude muses, trying not to stare too much. Had his legs always been so long?

“Thank you for making it on time. We have much to do,” Lorenz starts, gesturing Claude further into the room. The chair at his desk has been carefully moved to the corner, leaving the main carpeted area completely open for practice. Claude still thinks it’s a bit too crowded for dancing, but then again, he supposes the noble dances didn’t always move across the floor.

“Let’s start by seeing what you know. Please, if you would, show me the basic box step,” Lorenz instructs, stepping back to stand by the windows. He crosses his arms, expectant, and Claude grimaces. Right into things, huh?

“You don’t have any music to follow?”

“Obviously not. If you require it, however, I could hum a simple beat for you?”

That’s… surprisingly nice of him to offer, Claude thinks, blinking. 

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Better than nothing,” Claude replies, and Lorenz nods.

Honestly, Claude had expecting a lot of bickering when he stepped in here. He wasn’t prepared for the professionalism of the man - he was really leaning into the whole dance instructor role.

Taking a breath, Claude raises his hands, one in the air where it would hold a woman’s hand, and the other at her imaginarywaist. Lorenz clicks his tongue, and Claude winces.

“What? I haven’t even started.”

“No, you haven’t, and yet you have already made an error. Your arm is much too low. You hold a lady at the height of their ribs, Claude, right under her arm. _Not_ at the waist. That is far too personal and inappropriate,” he chides, and Claude grumbles a little, raising his arm.

“She could’ve been really short in my head.”

“With a very long reach, hm?” Lorenz snorts, glancing at his other hand. Claude truly has nothing to say to that.

Standing in the new position, Lorenz nods, then begins to hum. It’s a simple piece - one that Claude doesn’t recognize, but it’s easy to pick up on the downbeat, and thus, easy to follow. Lorenz’s voice isn’t bad, surprisingly - normally he choked in choir, trying to sing past his limits. But the calm humming… he could live with that.

Now, Claude really didn’t know a thing about ballroom dancing. He had observed the dip and sway of bodies, but he never really watched their feet. Taking his best guess, he steps forward, a long stride on the downbeat. He brings his other foot in beside it on the second hum, then just… steps in place on the third. It ends with his second foot now leading, which he thinks is right as he turns a little, knowing there was definitely some twirling involved.

Three sets brings him back to face Lorenz again, and he feels pretty good about it, looking up with a lopsided smile. The look Lorenz is giving him is enough to let him know, though, that no. It was nowhere close, and Lorenz honestly looks like he was feeling the effects of one of Claude’s stomach poisons, not watching him dance. If that wasn’t a confidence killer, Claude wasn’t sure what was.

“Uh… so. How was that?” Claude asks anyways, dropping his arms once he feels they’ve been up for too long.

“You… have a strong sense of rhythm,” Lorenz starts, obviously struggling to say something, _anything_ positive. “We have much more work ahead of us than I expected, shall we say. Do you know a single step to this dance?”

“That was everything I knew just there.”

“So no, is the answer.” Lorenz heaves a sigh, shaking his head. “Where _did_ you grow up that they didn’t teach you even a basic waltz?”

“Pretty sure that’s purely a stuffy noble thing, learning that. Half of our class doesn’t know the waltz either.”

“Half of our class is made of peasants, Claude. There is a rather large difference in their upbringing and yours. I would not expect them to know of such things, but you-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, sheesh. I should know it, but I don’t. So? How are you going to help me win a dance competition in a week?”

Lorenz looks pained at the reminder. He stands there for a moment, clearly thinking, before he gets a more determined expression on his face. 

“There is nothing to be done about it. I will teach you everything I know from scratch, daily, until the cup. We will have to work late into the night, but it will be doable.”

Claude feels exhausted just _hearing_ him say that, but, of course, he can’t refuse the plan. It really was the only way he stood _any_ chance in the tournament. So, with no small amount of remorse, he nods. 

“Guess so. You’re up to that?”

“If it means our victory, I am up for anything, Claude. We will make a dancer of you yet.”

He couldn’t wait. 

Stepping forwards, Lorenz approaches him, then turns. Claude’s eyes definitely stray a little too low, but hey. No one was watching, so he let himself indulge a _little_.

“Now, I am going to show you the movement. Watch carefully, then repeat, understood?”

“Yup.”

Claude’s eyes drop to Lorenz’s feet as he starts. Unlike what he had done, Lorenz actually starts by stepping backwards. No wonder he had gotten things so wrong. Step back with his left foot, over to the side with his right, then bring the left foot back in and switch the weight onto it. That… didn’t seem horrible. Lorenz doesn’t stop though, stepping forward with the right, to the side with his left, then finally bringing it in again, stopping precisely where he started. He repeats a few times, then turns gracefully to Claude, gesturing. 

“Let’s see you attempt it now. It should be a simple task, even for one of your calibre.”

Claude shoots him a look at the almost insult - it was true, so he couldn’t really call it an insult, but still. Claude moves to follow his example, moving much slower than Lorenz had. He finds it’s actually quite a bit harder than it looked - he keeps messing up which foot to step with, when to switch his weight, when to move forward or back. He definitely doesn’t look half as graceful as Lorenz did, each step far too heavy. 

He hears Lorenz sigh, and he snaps his fingers, bringing Claude’s fumbling to a stop. Claude had been right when he said it would be a long day.

“We will have to break things down further. Now, remember, when moving backwards, it is important to stay confident and nimble-”

-

Claude barely wakes in time for class the next day. Lorenz had spent the entire night instructing him in this ‘basic’ box step. While Claude’s rhythm had held up, his footwork was a far cry from what it needed to be. Really, how did you make something elegant when it literally had the word ‘box’ in it? Was that not indicative of a much clunkier dance?! Claude had never missed the festivals back in Almyra more.

After a rushed breakfast, the day goes smoothly, and Claude once again finds himself in Lorenz’s room. He watches as the man demonstrates over and over again, working through only three steps at a time until he’s satisfied. By the end of their practice, Lorenz is happy with the first half, and the next day he focuses on the second part. It’s easier moving forwards, at least, and the hours pass quickly until Claude can confidently complete the maneuver. 

(“It’s acceptable. Not as perfect as I would like, but that will come in our remaining days. Let us take an early rest tonight.”

Claude nearly cries in gratitude at those words.)

Four days down, and just five to go Claude muses, not even bothering to knock as he enters Lorenz’s room after classes again. It was habit by now, almost more familiar than retreating to his own quarters.

What isn’t familiar, though, is the head of pink hair sitting on Lorenz’s bed, sipping at a freshly brewed cup of tea. Claude raises an eyebrow as Hilda looks over at him, and she grins, waving.

“Claude! Glad you made it. Lorenz and I were beginning to wonder if you had skipped!” she laughs. 

“Uh, sorry. Had to clean up some things for Teach.”

Claude glances at Lorenz, seated on the chair in the corner and sipping his own tea, wondering why the hell Hilda was here.

“Well, all that matters is that you are here now. We can finally begin,” Lorenz announces, setting the cup down delicately on a saucer. Hilda follows suit, hopping up from the bed, and Claude feels strangely intimidated as two pairs of eyes land on him. 

“I have recruited Hilda to aid in our lesson today. You had things down yesterday, but dancing with a partner is a very different affair. You may be comfortable on your own, but that is not enough for victory.”

Claude gapes at him. Really, did Hilda need to know about his lack of dancing skills too? There was no way she wouldn’t use this as blackmail somehow. He didn’t know how, but he knew her.

“Don’t we compete without any partners, though? What’s the point?” he asks, trying to save some sort of face. Lorenz, however, merely scoffs and shakes his head.

“While you may not compete with another person in your arms, do not think that excuses you from learning. The difference between someone who can truly visualize dancing with a lovely lady, as opposed to only imagining it, will be as clear as the day is long. We cannot have you go in knowing only half of the experience.”

Goddess, Claude hated when he made sense. It would definitely be a lot easier if he knew how this _actually_ went. So, sighing and accepting the favours Hilda would definitely ask of him later down the line for helping out, he moves over to her.

She smiles sweetly up at him, and honestly, Claude can’t help but return it. He could never be mad at her. That was probably intentional on Hilda’s part, but he only admired her all the more for it as she raises her hand. Claude takes it, resting his other just under her arm as Lorenz had taught him, her hand placed on his shoulder. 

Taking a breath, Claude begins as Lorenz’s now familiar humming fills the room. He focuses on everything he had taught him so far, his footwork making sure he kept the tempo. He gets a few repetitions in without a hitch, before it starts to fall apart. 

Not knowing how to adjust to Hilda’s slower and wider steps, he stumbles, kicking her foot more than a couple of times as he tries to match her. Hilda’s smile turns strained, hand tightening on his shoulder, and Claude can feel himself starting to panic as their pace begins to lag. He speeds up, trying to catch up to where the steps should be in the dance, but it only succeeds in him slowly moving them from their center place until he literally runs himself into Lorenz’s desk on his backstep. 

Yelping, Claude finally lets go of Hilda, a hand flying to where the hardwood had dug into the small of his back. That was going to bruise, he thinks, while both Hilda and Lorenz groan.

“When you said he was bad, Lorenz, I didn’t think you really meant it,” Hilda says, and Lorenz huffs, shaking his head.

“I do not say things like that lightly.”

They send disparring looks at Claude, who frowns, straightening up. 

“Oh, come on. Let me try again. I’ll get used to it.”

“Well… if you’re sure. You better not run me into anything, though!”

“I won’t, I swear.”

-

Claude, by some miracle, does not. He does, however, continue to step on Hilda’s toes and get in her way. Lorenz keeps telling him to lead, but really, he hasn’t a clue how. He can barely follow Lorenz’s instructions, let alone lead Hilda in any kind of proper dance. The second time Claude nails Hilda right in the shin, she finally stops him, hands flying up.

“I give up! I signed up for a little practice, not to get abused by my house leader!” she cries, shaking her head.

“Hilda-”

“Nope! Teaching you is going to be way too much work, Claude. I’m really sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else to do this with. I’m way too delicate to be manhandled by you,” she huffs, shaking her head. 

Striding for the door, Hilda sends Lorenz a look and reaches out to pat his arm.

“Good luck, Lorenz. You’re going to need it for that guy. And don’t take it personally when we lose - no one could work with _that_.”

Claude grimaces, and Hilda exits the room in a trail of pink pigtails and a fluttering skirt.

Silence falls on the room as the door shuts behind her, before, slowly, Lorenz slumps back into the chair he had been in before.

“We’re doomed,” he says, shaking his head. Claude winces.

“No we aren’t. We’ll just- we’ll find someone else to practice with!”

“And who, pray tell, would that be Claude? Leonie most certainly doesn’t know the first thing about this sort of dance, Marianne is far too shy and just as delicate as Hilda. I would not put her through such a thing. And as for Lysithea…”

Both men shudder at the thought of even asking the girl for help with this. They liked having their heads still attached to their bodies.

Frowning, Claude ruffles his hair as he thinks.

“Anyone outside of our class wouldn’t help, since they want to win just as bad… So that kind of leaves no one, huh?” he murmurs, and Lorenz nods miserably. Claude watches him, taking in the defeated slump of his shoulders, his usually impeccable posture nowhere to be found.

“Hey, Lorenz.”

“Hm?”

“Why don’t you just do it? You can figure out the girl’s steps, right?”

Lorenz looks up at him, looking like Claude had just lost his mind.

“You… want to try and lead me?”

“Yup. Really, it’s our only choice left, right?” Claude asks, shrugging. He can see the gears turning behind Lorenz’s eyes, before he nods slowly. 

“Yes. That could work. I do not know the part nearly as well, but I can certainly try.”

Lorenz straightens himself, standing. He looks determined once again, and Claude can’t help but grin a little. That was better.

“Alright, Claude von Riegan. I will teach you, if it’s the last thing I do. Nothing can stop us from working through this.”

Claude nods, confidence bubbling up again.

“You bet!”

-

Claude runs Lorenz into a wall three times, and after some encouraging from Lorenz to try the final needed step of the showcase, drops him in a horrible excuse of a dip.

Claude winces as he hears Lorenz hit the - thankfully carpeted - floor. He stands there, stooped still, while Lorenz stares up blankly at the ceiling. A beat passes, then two, and Claude is starting to worry he hit his head when Lorenz speaks up.

“We are doomed,” he says again, and Claude, regrettably, is starting to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to snitewing for having taught me how to actually waltz so i half know what i'm talking about  
> lorenz would still be so, so disappointed in my footwork.
> 
> my ideas for day 2 of claurenz weren't working, so the second chapter will probably be my contribution for that day. i swear i will update on time for once...
> 
> as always, i love and live off of comments and kudos. please, tell me what you think!! i'm excited to finish the second half for you all!
> 
> also this is horribly unbeta'd so forgive me for any errors... i'm sure i'll eventually spot them and be suitably mortified


	2. Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> with a solid 4 minutes to go i managed to finish this for day 2 fjlkdafjg  
> perhaps i'll eventually figure out what i wanted to actually write for day 2 of claurenz week but for now just take these good boys being soft

Class the next day is a somber affair for the two of them. They both look exhausted, having continued to try and work through the steps long into the night. Claude didn't want them to lose, but it was seeming more and more likely with each day that passed. He just couldn't get used to standing stock still and spinning his partner around him. He enjoyed faster dances, ones where you leapt and howled and let the music flow through you. Keeping so prim and proper… it just didn't feel natural for him.

Claude sighs for what must be the third time that morning, his head hitting his desk. Lorenz, sat behind him, echoes the sentiment with a much softer sigh, and he idly wonders if they'll ever get anything done until the horror that is the Heron Cup is over. 

The day drags on, until finally, finally class ends. The other Golden Deer are quick to disperse, but Lorenz and him still sit there, shoulders hunched. 

Claude only looks up when Byleth approaches them, a frown on their face as they look between them. Claude, despite not even having asked for the role, can't help but feel a little guilty that he would be letting them down. 

Byleth stops in front of him, waiting, until Claude speaks up.

"We're going to lose the cup, Teach," he bemoans. 

"I do not usually agree with Claude, but… I fear he may be right." 

Byleth gives Lorenz a confused look when he speaks up, and Lorenz sighs. 

"I was instructing Claude on how to dance, since he was… quite horrid at it. We have the steps down, but actually dancing is another matter entirely," Lorenz explains, and Claude nods miserably as he slumps back in his chair. 

"I kept kicking Hilda, and I ran Lorenz into a wall. Three times."

"He truly has no talent for leading a dance," Lorenz huffs. 

Byleth looks between them, cocking their head, before speaking. It was rare for either party to hear their voice outside of class, Claude looking as surprised as Lorenz at the sound of it.

"Why don't you have Lorenz lead?"

Claude blinks, and Lorenz frowns.

"I… he needs to learn to lead for the competition, does he not?" 

Byleth shakes their head, smiling. 

"It's not necessary."

Claude glances at Lorenz, making eye contact.

"Will that be easier?"

"Immensely. The footwork may be more complicated, but you've been leaning towards the quicker steps anyways. This will certainly eliminate the need for you to have to focus on your imaginary partner," Lorenz says, and he looks excited at the prospect. Claude quirks a brow, really not getting it, but he shrugs. What did they have to lose?

"Do you even know how to teach me the other part?" Claude asks, and Lorenz snorts. 

"I can certainly figure it out. It is the reverse of the lead's part, and I know those steps as well as I know how to breathe. I can teach you to follow my steps, and I am certain I can consult Hilda for what I cannot figure out for myself. In fact, I will ask her right away. Give me today to prepare, and I shall begin teaching you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow- you want to teach me an entire new set of moves in three days?!" Claude sputters, and Lorenz frowns. 

"Well, you have the basics down. Simply reversing it should be much simpler," Lorenz says, but even he sounds doubtful. 

"You can skip classes."

Claude and Lorenz turn wide eyes to Byleth, stunned. 

"We- pardon?"

"You serious Teach?!”

Byleth nods, looking amused at their reactions. Claude knew both he and Lorenz were pretty close to top of their class, so he supposes a couple days off to pull off a miracle was doable. Still, he really didn't expect to hear his professor, of all people, encourage it.

“Well… if we have all day to practice, then I guess I just might be able to do it,” Claude hums, and Lorenz nods once more, a smile playing at his lips as he glances back at Claude.

“Indeed. Well now, if you would excuse me, I have much to learn - I shall see you tomorrow, Claude. Preferably well before noon, for once.” 

Claude sighs, shoulders slumping, but he certainly can't say no. Lorenz was doing enough to help him as was - the least he could do was put up with some early mornings.

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up and go figure out the steps,” he chuckles, and Lorenz doesn’t need more prompting than that. Bowing towards Byleth as he stands, he excuses himself from the classroom, looking infinitely more confident than he had all day. Claude watches him leave with a soft smile, and Byleth pats his shoulder and gives him an encouraging look, before they, too, depart. Left alone at last, Claude sighs, and starts off for the library. He's certain he'll have next to no free time for the next few days, so he might as well take care of what studies he could in the meantime. He had the distinct feeling that he’ll spend half of the month recovering from whatever brutal training regimen Lorenz would be coming up with.

-

Claude wakes to a rapid knock on his door, pulling him from a rather peaceful sleep. He groans, his entire body protesting having to wake up as he buries his face in his pillow. Slowly, he starts to drift off again, before another set of knocks jerks him back awake.

"Claude, I know you are in there! We cannot waste a moment today!"

Of course it's Lorenz. Claude grumbles, allowing himself to lay there for a few more moments, before pushing himself upright with another groan. Another set of impatient knocks, and Claude shuffles over to the door, opening it as he barely hides a yawn behind his hand. 

"Calm down, I'm up. Honestly, what time is it?"

"It's barely a half hour before they call breakfast, though you act as if I've woken you in the middle of the night."

"Might as well have," Claude mutters, turning to walk back into his room. Lorenz follows after a moment, and Claude can practically _hear_ him judging the mess as Claude tries to smooth down his rumpled hair. His sleep shirt clings tight to his muscles, the loose britches he wore to sleep hanging low on his hips. 

"So, how does it look?"

"P- pardon?" 

Claude glances back at Lorenz, cocking an eyebrow at the voice crack. That was unlike him.

"The dance. What are our chances of pulling this off?" Claude clarifies, watching Lorenz flush. Huh. That was interesting.

"Ah, r- right. Of course. Hilda was very gracious in teaching me everything we need to know. I do believe I should have no troubles teaching you in turn."

Claude nods, rummaging around his room for a clean shirt.

"It'd be a lot easier if she would teach me herself."

"I doubt any promise would make her come back after the performance you put on last time. She complained that you had left bruises on her shins."

Well, that was definitely an exaggeration, since there was no way she was actually hurt by his little kicks. Still, Claude got the point.

"Yeah. Guess it's a good thing you're sticking through it with me," Claude chuckles, tugging his shirt off over his head. He hears Lorenz sputter behind him, and he grins over his shoulder to see him whirling around, his neck flushed. 

"Have you no propriety?!" he exclaims, and Claude just barely bites back a laugh. 

"You're the one who came in when I was still under dressed."

Tugging the new shirt on, Claude goes to undo the drawstrings of his pants when he finally hears the door open and shut, Lorenz hurrying away.

Claude hums as he finishes his morning routine, smoothing down his jacket before he heads out. Who said he couldn't still have a bit of fun with the guy?

-

With breakfast done and the other students in class, Claude finds himself in Lorenz's room once again. It looks as it always does, though Lorenz seems more intent on the lesson this time, back ramrod straight. He clears his throat before he speaks, and Claude raises a brow silently. 

"Unfortunately, near everything changes with this part. Your arm position, leading foot, movement - much is reversed, so I need you to try and clear your head of all but the most basic steps you've learnt."

Claude snorts, murmuring an, "Easier said than done," under his breath. Lorenz scowls, but presses on, ignoring the comment.

"We will begin with the movement. First, step forwards-"

-

As Lorenz had said, the dance was largely just reversed. Different leg, different direction, but same movements and rhythm. It makes it a lot easier to pick up once Claude stops trying to perform the leading steps - the hardest part had already been wrangled under control in their previous lessons. 

They take a short break for lunch before launching right back to work, and by the time evening falls, Claude is fluidly performing the correct steps. Gracefully? Definitely not. But he no longer stops or stutters part way through, which he considers a small victory.

Lorenz seems similarly pleased, a small smile playing at his lips while he watches Claude move around the space, humming the beat. Claude finishes the set, pausing, and beams at him. 

"Well. That wasn't half as hard as I thought."

"Of course not. As I said, you knew half of what you needed prior to beginning, _and_ you have an excellent instructor to guide you. Success is only natural."

"Hey, we still need to see how I do with a partner! Might be too early to celebrate yet," Claude snorts, shaking his head. 

"It cannot go worse than it did last time," Lorenz points out, striding forwards. 

"Is that a challenge?"

"Most certainly not!"

Claude laughs at the affronted expression on his face. Lorenz rolls his eyes, perhaps fondly, Claude thinks, before holding out a hand. 

Claude stares for only a moment before realizing what he's asking for, and lifts his hand to take Lorenz's. It's warm against his own, the skin soft and… was that lavender he smelled? Must be a lotion, Claude notes with amusement, lifting his other hand. He nearly places it on Lorenz's ribs, before a sharp look reminds him to reach up higher, settling on Lorenz's shoulder as he steps in close to make the reach less awkward.

Lorenz places his other hand just under Claude's arm, the touch sturdy and confident, like he had done it hundreds of times before. Claude supposes that he has, in fact, considering just how many balls the nobles loved to throw around here. He doubts Lorenz had missed one. 

Lorenz squeezes his hand gently, bringing his thoughts back to their dance. 

"Focus now, Claude. I will take this slow, but you mustn't let your mind wander."

Claude nods wordlessly, tilting his head up to look at Lorenz. Honestly, he often forgot about their height difference. It's only when he stands so close to him that Claude remembers, the top of his head just reaching Lorenz's lips. He tries to ignore the little puff of breath that ruffles his hair as Lorenz starts, his humming picking up once more.

Claude takes a breath and lets himself follow, stepping after him as Lorenz guides him, his hold steady. Unlike with Hilda, Claude doesn't have to focus on where he's stepping or on guiding her around. It's easier to just remember his footwork and trust Lorenz to steer him in the right direction. 

Claude still stumbles a few times, but surprisingly, the dance is going much smoother. Lorenz continues to hum his song, and Claude finds himself naturally relaxing into the movements. His gait lengthens to match Lorenz's, and before he knows it Lorenz is finishing the song. They come to a stop in the middle of the room, breathing softly. 

Claude looks up at Lorenz, smile tugging at his lips, and Lorenz returns the look.

"We may just win this yet, Claude von Riegan."

-

Claude flourishes under the guidance of Lorenz and the new roll. Unlike the lead’s part, he doesn’t have to stay so stiff and rigid. He’s allowed to bend and sway and twirl as Lorenz directs him, the familiar feeling of the music and beat thrumming through his veins. They spend the next two days perfecting his footwork, working on fast and slow spins, twirls - anything the role entailed. 

They both knew that the cup would hardly ask for so much, performed without a partner such as it was, but they couldn’t help but go that extra mile. Lorenz seemed to be enjoying himself, teaching Claude, and Claude didn’t have the heart to turn him down. It wasn’t like he wasn’t having fun himself, after all.

When the Sunday rolls around that Byleth had promised to teach him, Claude feels infinitely more confident in his abilities. He joins the other students practicing in the courtyard, feeling Byleth carefully watch his every move. When he finishes, he receives a glowing smile from the professor, and he can’t help but grin back, excitement replacing the dread that had plagued him a mere week ago. He can practically feel the confidence boost from just that session.

Lorenz lets him sleep early that night in reward, before mercilessly grilling him for the final day of preparation, watching Claude dance by himself. He knows how it feels, now, truly dancing, and it certainly shows. Lorenz nitpicks every single thing that needs adjustments, but he looks pleased by the time evening finally falls. 

When Claude falls into bed that night, he’s almost too excited to sleep. He’s thankful Lorenz wore him out enough that it still claims him anyways, letting him rest up for the competition at last.

-

Claude breathes deep, standing in the middle of the cleared out entry hall with the two other representatives. Both Dorothea and Sylvain stand beside him, looking more than at ease with the situation. He figures it’s not out of the norm for them, having to dance with so many eyes on them. Dorothea for obvious reasons, and Sylvain because, well… he's Sylvain. Claude was certain most eyes were on him at balls. 

He definitely is the odd one out of the three of them, with no extensive background in dancing. He would almost be nervous, if he didn’t remember the look Lorenz had given him as they parted ways the previous night - full of confidence and pride. Even now, Claude can see him standing amongst the crowd, arms crossed and a small smirk on his face. He didn’t doubt for a moment that Claude would be victorious, and that fact alone chases away any doubts Claude himself might have. The other two wouldn’t know what hit them.

Alois turns to them, and they all take their starting poses - Sylvain in a leading position, and Dorothea and Claude both with the follow. He can see Sylvain raise a brow at him, clearly surprised, and he flashes him a confident wink. Before the man can reply, Alois gives the signal for the ensemble to start the music, and they fall into the dance in perfect sync.

Claude forces himself to ignore his competitors, just remembering everything that Lorenz had taught him over the last week. He keeps his feet light, movements graceful but fast, adding a bit of extra movement with the music that lets him fall into the dance proper. A smile plays on his lips, and as he moves, he imagines Lorenz following with him. Pictures that sturdy grip at his back, a warm hand holding his as they both spin across the floor, lost in their own world. 

Before he realizes it, the music is called to stop, and they all freeze as the dance ends. Dorothea barely looks winded, while Sylvain and him quietly pant for breath, moving back to stand in front of the judges. Claude’s eyes automatically find Lorenz’s again, and the man is staring right back at him, cheeks a little flushed and eyes wide.

Claude can’t help but smile, especially when Manuela names him as her vote. It grows as Shamir agrees, and he’s all but beaming when Alois throws in the third one, a unanimous decision that he had won the competition. There’s a few sounds of surprise, but it’s mostly drowned out by cheers as Claude chuckles to himself, still never looking away from Lorenz.

“Wow. I never thought I’d win a dance competition. I’ve clearly uncovered a hidden talent!” he laughs as Byleth walks over to congratulate him, eyes knowing. He rolls his eyes at them.

“You didn’t actually know I’d win, teach. But thanks. It was a good experience,” he hums, and Byleth nods, while others come rushing up, Hilda and Lorenz in the lead. His heart feels like it could soar, and he just catches Hilda as she tackles him in a hug, gushing about his performance. 

"You were amazing Claude! I can't believe how good you were! I thought I'd have to watch you go down in flames, but you were so confident!"

“Indeed. You will certainly be busy during the ball,” Lorenz agrees when she stops to breathe, and Claude laughs, tossing a wink his way.

“I’ll make sure to save the last dance for my instructor still,” he promises, and Lorenz smiles in turn.

“I will hold you to that.”

-

The next week passes in peace, after that. Claude and Lorenz both work hard to catch up on their studies, retreating back to spending the nights apart. Honestly, Claude misses the excuse to hang around the other so much. While he might have started the month happy for any privacy he could get from Lorenz’s snooping, he could not say he felt the same now. 

Busy as they are, though, it feels like Claude barely gets the chance to talk to him outside of class. Even the feast prior to the ball is busy, full of eating and drinking and joking around with his class, nary a moment for them to take for themselves. Still, it's a successful evening. The promise they all make warms his heart, reassuring him that no matter what happened, they’d find their way back together. 

By the time the actual ball rolls around, the monastery is full of little else but talk of it. Evening falls, and with it, more dancing than Claude knows how to handle. As Lorenz had once said, him winning the White Heron Cup did attract far more interest in asking him to be a partner for dance, and Claude finds himself spending much of the night twirling around and between different students. He even manages to drag Byleth out for a dance at the start, but by the time the night is halfway through, he's exhausted. He retreats from the main hall, seeking solace for even a moment. The whole of the monastery is full of revelry and noise, the ensemble playing for the whole school to hear, and he finds himself drifting away from it all as much as he can.

Claude enjoyed feasts and parties, but this was all a bit much. He could only last so long before he needed a break, and, seemingly unbidden, his feet lead him across the bridge to the cathedral and beyond. They stop in front of the Goddess Tower, and his lips quirk up a little when he spots the door ajar. He’s certain that students had been coming and going throughout the night, confessing their feelings in the hopes that the rumour would be true.

Claude isn't usually one for believing in fate, but he can’t deny the curiosity filling him at the chance to sneak into what is normally such a forbidden area. Pushing inside, he peers around at the root and ivy covered walls, trailing a hand over them. He starts the long climb to the top of the tower, taking in every detail he can as he goes. It opens onto a flat stone floor, open arches showing a beautiful view of the scenery and the night sky. A cool breeze ruffles his hair, and Claude takes a calming breath, the faint sound of the ball far below him. It was a shame such a place was usually locked up - he might just have to find a way to sneak out to it more often, he thinks. 

Claude rests against the side of an archway, simply watching the stars. It brings peace to him, as usual, and he barely twitches as he hears someone climbing the stairs. They reach the same floor as him, pausing for only a moment, before they approach and stand beside him.

The scent of lavender hits his nose, and Claude smiles to himself, heart fluttering in his chest. 

“There are still some suitors searching for you for a dance, you know.”

“Still? And here I thought I had danced with the entire monastery by now,” Claude laughs, glancing at Lorenz from the corner of his eye. The formal wear suits him, he muses. Lorenz looks at home in it, hands clasped behind his back as he looks up at the sky alongside him. The glint of starlight reflects off the embellishments on the clothes, and washes his hair out into a light lilac colour, skin near glowing. He looks absolutely stunning, and Claude swallows hard, feeling his cheeks warm. He steadies himself, before turning to face him. 

“Well… maybe not the whole monastery,” he continues, and he watches as Lorenz slowly turns his eyes to him, then to the hand he’s holding out.

“I promised to save you my last dance, didn’t I?”

Lorenz blinks, before a small smile curls at his lips. It nearly takes Claude’s breath away as Lorenz takes his hand, turning and stepping closer to him, away from the edge of the tower. 

Claude happily draws him in closer, his hand finding the distantly familiar spot on Lorenz’s shoulder as Lorenz does the same, nearly pressed against each other. The music of the ball drifts across the still night air, and without a word the two of them fall in step, slowly moving across the small space. 

For all the decorations and revelry and champagne of the ball, nothing could compare to this dance. To the faint chill of the winter air, a breeze blowing across Lorenz’s cheeks and stirring his hair. To the warmth radiating off of him, seemingly soaking into Claude at every point he touched. To the light of the moon bathing them both, the stars a warm reminder of just how small they were, and of just how close his dreams could really be. 

Silently, Claude adds one more part to his wish as they twirl. His heart drops for a moment as he’s lowered into a dip, grip tightening on Lorenz’s shoulder, but the man holds strong. Claude stares up at him for a beat, Lorenz gazing down at him with the softest expression he had ever seen him wear, and that anecdote to his ambitions solidifies, as permanent as a carving in stone. Lorenz gently pulls him back onto his feet, sweeping him back into the movements without a word, and yeah.

Claude swears to make sure Lorenz is by his side when the dawn finally rises on his unified Kingdom, and they can live out their days in peace, all secrets laid to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!
> 
> i love two (2) men


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